Dollhouses & War

The first attempt at proper poetry and the next and the next.
"Not a tea stain, but a rain stain,"
"Does my heart tangle like headphones in a pocket?"
"...mascara tears registers exhilaration under rapid music beats. "
"Love is the only blood we will bleed as / Together we fall into a rainstorm."


15. Insomnia has me Again



Wakeful nights. 

Exhausted days. 

Oh how I beg for my eyes to shut. 

For my fingers to reach the off switch on my brain. 

For my body and aching mind to sleep.


Bugs crawl across my eyelids

and chain my ankles to my mattress 

and my eyelids to my forehead. 


The darkness forms swirls and masterful Mona Lisa's 

in my delirium. 

Walls bend at the waist, 

folding like their bricks 

are paper playing cards. 


My mind teases me with possibilities. 

Tomorrow I could...

Tomorrow I should... 

But I'll be too tired for all of that. 


My hands fumble with covers, 

head switching sides of the bed, 

comfort evading me like a hit and run. 


Sleep must be a police car. 

Racing away after something 

chasing and never slowing. 

It never allows me to take it, 

to put it in chains,

to put it behind neatly standing bars. 


Oh just let me sleep. 

But my brain screams, 

my eyes betray

and insomnia has me again, 

behind the prison of night and 

overactive thoughts. 


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